


Somethin' in Your Eyes

by IsThereARealLife



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: (i guess??), (if you can call it an au), Alternate Universe - Earth, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Canon-Typical Violence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Build, Soulmates, all that good stuff, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11682045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsThereARealLife/pseuds/IsThereARealLife
Summary: Being a spy and trying to take down criminal organisations is hard enough without soulmates getting in the way.But things have a tendency of not going to plan.





	Somethin' in Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bodhirookandor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodhirookandor/gifts).



> this is for my amazing friend whom i love, [izzy](http://luminousbodhi.tumblr.com), who wanted a combination of the two best tropes ever (better late than never, right? :P
> 
> (also a huge thank you to everyone in the group chat for being writing buddies and basically smacking me over the head with motivation)
> 
> title from the song "[Feels Like Home](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yBndb34ggkY)" which is super pretty and i would recommend checking it out

  
Cassian peers out the hangar doors, noting the weather, as he waits for the rest of the team to arrive. 

Two agents he met in the briefing yesterday arrive first, nodding at him and murmuring a greeting on the way past him into the belly of the plane.

He shivers in the chill pre-dawn air and wishes, not for the first time, that this was an undercover mission. At least then, he could wear something warm. He misses his parka with the fluffy hood. The tactical pants and undershirt he currently has on are a poor substitute.

He’s just about to ask his commanding officer if there even is a fourth member of their team, and that they’re going to miss their window, when a rumpled figure lugging two overpacked duffle bags half-runs out of the side door into the hangar.

Cassian blinks. “Is he even allowed all that?”

General Draven shrugs. “He’s been cleared. Must be fine.” 

Cassian frowns, but doesn’t comment.

The man finally draws closer and gasps out, “I’m the pilot.”

Cassian frowns and scratches at the bandage on his upper arm. It’s nothing. It’s always nothing. He doesn’t care.

“Captain Andor, Agent Rook,” Draven introduces them.

Cassian puts out his hand. “Agent.”

Agent Rook drops one of his bags to take Cassian’s hand. “Good to meet you, Captain.”

Draven coughs. “Alright, you need to get going or you’ll miss your window. Good luck.” And with that, he turns and leaves.

“I’ll—” Agent Rook gestures at the plane.

“Yeah.”

Cassian watches the man climb aboard.

It’s the same. Always the same. He stopped caring a long time ago.

  


* * *

  
_Alpha Team, you’re cleared for take off._

“Copy that, Control.”

_Good luck. See you in a few days._

Bodhi glances behind for one last check. Everyone is seated and strapped in, all the gear is stowed, his bags of snacks and books are safely in his cabin cupboard. Captain Andor nods at him. All good. Everything is ready. He turns back to his controls and presses buttons, pulls levers and steers the plane as second nature, and within a minute, they’re in the air. Another ten minutes and they’re at cruising altitude and Bodhi can leave the controls, at least temporarily, so he can hear what Captain Andor has to say.

But before he even has the chance to leave the cabin, the captain is there, barely a foot from him. Frowning.

“Captain?”

“You were Empire?”

Bodhi flinches and tries to back away, but runs into his seat. “I-I was. But I defected.”

“But you were Empire?”

“And I defected! I _defected_!” Bodhi raises his hands in front of him. “If that file says I was Empire it must say I defected too! I was cleared for duty. We have little enough pilots as it is, they were happy to take me on.”

“What’s in the bags?”

Bodhi blinks. “The…the bags?”

“Yes, the big bags you brought on board.”

“I—snacks. It’s snacks and a few books.” He unlatches the cupboard and unzips a pocket to reveal bags of chips, a few sandwiches and a two-litre bottle of water. “I’ve got to wait with the plane for you all for over a day. I’m gonna get hungry and bored real quick.”

The tension in Captain Andor’s shoulders loosens slightly.

“I was cleared, the bags were cleared. I wouldn’t have gotten near this plane is they didn’t trust me completely. I—I would appreciate the same from you.”

Cassian lowers his gaze and steps back, nodding. “I’m sorry. Yes, of course.”

There is an awkward silence, and Bodhi starts tapping out a pattern on his palm.

Finally, Andor gestures behind him. “I’m going to start the briefing now…” He turns away and Bodhi follows him out.

“Okay. This mission has several objectives. Rook, you’re our extraction plan, stay on the comms, wait for my call. You’re also our connection back to command, but keep the channel closed unless absolutely necessary. We don’t want them intercepting or hijacking our signals at all, but at least we can stop them getting to the command centre. Sark, you’re on point. You’ll set up one kilometre away from the facility. Get into the system, shut it down so Tivik and I can get in. We’ll go in through the sewer mains, and should come up somewhere in the shower block. From there, we split up. You get to the cells, they have two of our own locked up. Last we heard, they’re still alive, let’s get them out of there the same way. I will go to the command offices for information extraction. Sark, you’ll be monitoring the surveillance cameras, let us know if anything changes, if their people are headed our way, anything.”

A chorus of “Yes, Captain” sounds and Cassian looks to Bodhi.

“How long?”

“ETA 6 hours, 45 minutes, last I checked.”

“Okay, I want everyone ready in six hours.” He nods his dismissal, and Bodhi returns to the front of the plane.

He checks the dials and screens once, then slumps into his chair, idly tapping at his left forearm, at the mark there that he can find blindfolded in the dark on a boat in the middle of a storm. He sighs and pulls up his sleeve, brushing a thumb over the one mark he wishes wasn’t there, the one mark he didn’t choose to put there, the one that was the reason for the rest. He traces some of the details of the tattoos, cleverly designed to hide, without completely covering, his soulmark.

Having the word ‘Agent’ imprinted on his skin while growing up under the thumb of some of London’s more horrific crime lords was a good way to die young and brutal. So he hid it, and hides it still, despite defecting. It’s still dangerous, no matter who he works for now.

It’s not like he can forget it, though. He hears the word a million times a day, from countless different people. But it is just a word on his arm. He would rather make a choice, instead of letting some birthmark dictate how and with whom to live his life.

  


* * *

  
Cassian takes a seat at the end of the row, near the back of the plane. It’s darker here, the others can’t see his face. It gives him some privacy with his thoughts.

He rubs his eyes and frowns at the opposite wall, letting his mind wander.

The number of times he’s heard someone say “I’m the pilot” in his line of work….He gave up hope on that front years ago. The first few times, he would jolt, from fear and anticipation, but there was never a reaction from the other person, never the right words mirrored on their skin.

Now he keeps his bicep bandaged and wears long sleeves whenever possible. False hope, distractions, and really, anything personal, anything that could give away any small facet of his identity, could get him killed or captured in an instant. It is a risk he cannot take. So he cuts himself off from it. Ignores it, ignores the constant reminders of it whenever a new mission, a new pilot arrives. Ignores it all. He’s gotten good at it, over the years. But sometimes...sometimes it just nags at him. The potential, unlikely as it is, still weighs at his mind.

But he doesn’t even want that sort of thing right now. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Because he certainly _can’t_ want it now. Possibly never. He could never allow himself that luxury, could never risk someone else’s life for his own happiness and comfort. Not when there’s still an enemy out there. Not when the people who killed his family are still causing mayhem and tearing lives apart as they did to his. If he can do anything to stop them, he will. He’ll do it, so no one else has to. 

Cassian’s thoughts are interrupted by a lilting voice from the front of the plane. Agent Rook, he realises, is singing softly as he tweaks dials and levers and watches the monitors. He can’t help the pull at the corner of his mouth as he listens. The pilot is really quite good.

Cassian sighs and turns away. He shouldn’t have roused on Rook earlier. He’s been cleared, he’s the reason they have the information necessary to complete this mission in the first place.

Something about this entire mission has had Cassian on edge since he arrived at the airfield this morning. Something just feels...off. He can’t pinpoint what has him on edge, he can just hope it wears off by the time they land.

  


* * *

  
“Captain, we’re ten minutes from the airfield, drop zone in one minute.”

“Thank you Agent Rook.”

While Captain Andor continues talking to the other two agents and checking their parachute straps, Bodhi readies the plane for the jumps.

“10 000 feet, Captain. Opening the doors.”

Bodhi flicks the switches to open the door. The hydraulics whirr and suddenly the plane is filled with damp, icy cold air.

“8000 feet. Mind the rain,” Bodhi shouts over the howling weather.

“On my mark,” Captain Andor yells. “Go!” Agent Tivik jumps. Ten seconds later, “Go!” and Agent Sark jumps. “See you on the other side, Agent Rook.” And then Andor is gone too.

Bodhi counts to ten himself to make sure the captain is clear, then closes the doors. They clang shut and he shivers, shaking off the chill air.

He swings the plane around to make the landing, and at 5000 ft, a small light starts flashing on the dashboard. Fuel warning. Bodhi frowns. That doesn’t make sense, the tank was full when they left. He checks the gauge and it still reads a full third of a tank. He frowns. That is definitely not right.

Riding a nice tailwind, he lands only a few minutes later amidst a storm that makes the late afternoon feel like the dead of night. He has to check in with flight control in the small building at the other end of the runway and grimaces at the prospect of leaving the relative comfort of the plane for the wild weather outside. 

But first he has to check the fuel.

The floor panels in the centre of the plane lift easily and reveal the fuel cells and wiring and...that wiring is not supposed to be there. Bodhi lies on the floor to get closer and shines his torch into the hold area. _Normal wires...fuel lines...all good...wait, there—_ He follows the extra wires with the torch, around behind the fuel cell and—it disappears? _Wait_. He shifts around and— “Oh, fuck.”

_17_

_16_

_15_

Bodhi flicks the switch to open the door and throws open his cupboard door.

_14_

_13_

He yanks his bags out, grabs the portable radio set and the torch he dropped and runs to the back of the plane.

_12_

_11_

_10_

_9_

He snatches up the emergency supplies bag from a shelf and bounces on the balls of his feet waiting for the door to open.

_8_

Come on.

_7_

Hurry up hurry _up_.

_6_

_5_

Finally! He jumps through the opening and rolls to the ground.

_4_

He’s on his feet, sprinting for the cover of the trees around the airstrip.

_3_

_2_

_1_  


  


**Author's Note:**

> im on tumblr at [rookmybodhi](http://rookmybodhi.tumblr.com/), my ask box is open :)


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